


The Box

by chucks_prophet



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel in the Bunker, Confused Castiel, Dean leaves Cas a box, Dean's Confession, First Kiss, Impatient Castiel, John's Journal, M/M, Mystery Box, Season/Series 08 Spoilers, Season/Series 11 Spoilers, Wraith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-08-08 04:55:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7744162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chucks_prophet/pseuds/chucks_prophet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em> Point is, he’s a dorky little guy, but he grows on you pretty easily. And since he’s immortal and God (yeah, we met him too during an exclusive backstage experience) keeps resurrecting him, chances are you’ll meet him somewhere along the line, and he’ll grow on you too.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>  <em>And if you fall in love with him, which is also easy to do, treat him good. Treat him like I should have. <em></em></em></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Box

**Author's Note:**

> From otpprompts.tumblr.com: 
> 
> Person A is going away on a long trip, and gives person B a small box filled with mementos “so that you have something to remember me by.” What’s in the box? Photographs? An expensive gift, like a watch or a necklace? Heartfelt poems and love letters? The original “do you like me? Y/N” note that Person A wrote all those years ago? Random trinkets that seem insignificant but actually have a deep meaning that only the two of them understand? And finally, how does Person B react to this gift? Smile, cry, laugh, yell at Person A for leaving, all of the above?

 

 

**Day 1**

 

It's just a box.

It's not small enough for a fine piece of jewelry. However…

It _is_ big enough to hold will papers. But Dean wouldn't leave him those…would he? Sure, Dean contemplates death often, that's part of the life, but when would he have time to sit down and write? And what good would it do Cas to read it? Wouldn't Sam be the primary beneficiary?

Besides, what could Dean possibly give Cas that he hasn’t already? Dean’s given Cas everything. His trust, his devotion, his _faith_ —Dean didn’t start praying until Cas came along, after all.

Cas takes a deep breath. Dean gave him specific instructions. Not that Cas has been known to _follow_ instructions from the Winchesters, but even so. Dean told him if he’s not back in three days, then Cas could satisfy his relentless, ever-ticking curiosity. He has to honor that. 

**3 Hours Later**

But what does that even _mean?_ “If” he’s not back in three days. What could possibly be different about this hunt compared to previous hunts? Dean says they’re hunting a wraith, which isn’t a foreign creature for them, so it’s not like they’ll be more vulnerable than usual. According to Supernatural Squee, an online database that knows more about Sam and Dean than _Castiel_ does, though they prefer feeding off the brains of the “crazies”, wraiths can also feed off humans susceptible to fear and…

Love.

Not that that means anything to Cas. Of course heloves Sam and Dean, but he’s not the one working the case. Plus, he’s an angel, so he’s, as Dean put it years ago, a DeLorean with plutonium. And the brothers know how to go without showing weakness in the face of their enemies. Especially Dean. Dean’s like a Pandora Box. All the bad stuff, the stuff his foes use as gas to fuel the fire, is under tight surveillance by three people: Him, Sam, and his ego.

And even if Dean’s somehow vulnerable due to love, this doesn’t explain the box that’s now on the war room table rather than Cas’s nightstand. He not only lost sleep staring at the thing, he completely missed the last episode of _Lost,_ and that’s just unacceptable. This box, this white, rectangular, three-dimensional piece of cardboard, has made _him_ more prone to insanity.

So naturally, he does what any young child would do on the Eve of Christmas. He lifts the box, sets it down, and repeats the process. Nothing. No sound. Not a single giveaway as to what it could be.

Cas hears a scuffle coming from upstairs and quickly sets the box down… only to realize the noise is the AC kicking into action.

Cas sighs and hangs his head. “This is going to be a long few days.”

 

**Day 2**

 

Dean calls around ten at night, telling Cas they’ve pretty much wrapped up the case.

“You sound awfully chipper, Dean,” Cas laughs.

“We just came back from a drive-in theatre playing _Dirty Dancing,_ man,” Dean explains, “Patrick Swayze!”

Cas rolls his eyes, but a smile enters and exits his lips like a car passing over a bridge nonetheless. “Touché. But why is a wraith lurking around a parking lot in the middle of the night?”

“Dude, drive-in,” Dean says, like it’s the most _obvious_ thing, like Cas _didn’t_ have a hundred years’ worth of pop culture downloaded to his angel noggin.

“I’m not following.”

Dean clears his throat, “Sex, Cas. Kids go to drive-ins to have sex.”

“Ah,” Cas replies, thankful Dean can’t see him scratching his neck. “So you, uh, you killed it, then?”

“Nothing can kill the power of love, but uhm, yeah, we ganked that mother.” There’s a pause. “We’ll be home a little later than we expected, though, maybe another day. Sam’s in the library doing research—personally, I think he’s getting black and whites of that hot librarian rolling out of the copying machine—which means he probably won’t be in the mood to drive home tonight, and I’m way too drunk.”

Cas glares at the box, still on the war room table where he left it. “Okay.”

“Sorry, man,” Dean says. “I was actually, uh… looking forward to seeing you.”

Some of Cas’s tea he’s been sipping spills over the library table. Chamomile. It’s supposed to calm him. But since he’s an angel, and oh yeah _,_ Dean just said _that,_ it doesn’t exactly take effect _._ Maybe this box isn’t such a bad thing after all. “Uh… no, yeah, I mean, I very much enjoy your presence as well, Dean.”

“Alright, well I’m gonna hit it. Night, Cas.”

“Goodnight, Dean.”

 

**Day 3**

 

Scratch that, this box _is_ a bad thing. A very, very bad thing.

Cas has waited long enough for that box to be taunting him the way it does. He deserves answers. He deserves to know why Dean gave it to him. Besides, Dean said if he’s not back in a few days, which he confirmed on the phone yesterday, Cas has permission to open it, right?

Right?

With that logic, he snatches the box. He cradles it in his hands for some time, like the Golden Fertility Idol from _Raiders of the Lost Ark,_ before lifting the top equally as painstakingly slow.

When he finally peels it back, his eyebrows furrow and the breath he’d been holding spills out.

“What?” he asks, confused as he stares down at the item.

It’s John Winchester’s Journal.

No doubt the thing is a relic, but Cas has seen this before. The only difference since last he read it is the yellow sticky note poking out from the endless binder of papers. It reads, in close-knit Caps letters that can only belong to Dean, ‘CAS’. Cas pulls it back, and his breath hitches again. Now _this,_ this Cas hasn’t seen.

The page is entitled ‘ANGELS (OR AS I LIKE TO CALL THEM, WINGED DICKS AND CASTIEL)’.

_So… I’m shit at introductions. Most of the time I do them, someone ends up gutted, ganked, filleted, beheaded, you name it. So sorry if that happens to you too and welcome to the family business. My name’s Dean. I’m John’s kid. (The handsomer one.)_

_I never thought I’d write in this thing. After Dad died, it just seemed wrong. Everything seemed wrong. But this is an important section. And by important I mean you could do a cake jump from your own body after your eyes burn out of your skull if you don’t read this._

_If you read that and thought, ‘Wow, that sounds pleasant’ then you’d be right. Now stick with me, this next part is gonna sound crazy (or crazier than a typical day in our lives): Angels._

_Before you say you’re an atheist or Criss Angel is just a douchebag with access to plexiglass, yes, angels are real. And they’re probably the most powerful creatures Sam and I have ever encountered. They can pretty much do anything your standard spirit, demon, witch, or Clark Kent can do. And they’re dicks. **Massive** dicks. Probably worse than demons._

_The good news is, like all those things, they do have a few weaknesses. For one, they can’t take a joy ride in your vessel without say-so. That’s right, the big ‘I do’ is a must for Daddy’s little rejects._

_Another thing, always keep holy oil around. Nothing gets an angel’s holy goat like being trapped in a burnin’ ring of fire. There’s a sigil that temporarily banishes them, too (drawn in the lower left corner). To where, who knows and who cares. There’s not much to it, but you can’t be queasy around blood._

_Hexbags work to keep them at arm’s distance, but if you’re in a real bind, snatch their blade. Each angel has their own tucked under their sleeve, and it’s about the only thing that kills their immortal ass if you’re human._

_Oh and, uh… don’t sleep with one. They’ll go after your brother. With a knife._

_Now, this is where the line starts to blur between the things we hunt and the people we save: Not all angels are bad. Like the archangel Gabriel (yes, that one), who, yeah, stuck us in a dozen different versions of House in an attempt to puppeteer his grand scheme of getting us to say yes to the apocalypse, but he was alright._

_And then there’s Castiel. If you run into Castiel (literally, the dude has zero respect for personal space), you’re in good hands. Cas full-on rebelled against Heaven Obi Wan Kenobi style just to help us, the humans, the couch-lazing, Netflix-binging mortals._

_He also raised me from Hell, so there’s that._

_But seriously, Cas has saved our asses more times than we care to count. Cas is family, and Sam and I don’t just go handing out that gold star._

_In a lot of ways, Cas is human. He’s screwed up ad infinitum, between letting Leviathan out of Purgatory (you’re glad you missed that), ditching us for an angel tablet, and casting his winged dick siblings out of Heaven._

_He’s also **been** human. When the angels got locked out and Sammy was dying, he found himself a job, a new purpose (I’ve never seen someone so excited to nuke taquitos)… he even went on his first date (thankfully **not** with the girl that stabbed him after rubbing nasties)… _

_Point is, he’s a dorky little guy, but he grows on you pretty easily. And since he’s immortal and God (yeah, we met him too during an exclusive backstage experience) keeps resurrecting him, chances are you’ll meet him somewhere along the line, and he’ll grow on you too._

_And if you fall in love with him, which is also easy to do, treat him good. Treat him like I should have._

Cas flips through the pages again. His eyes feel like bowling balls, heavy, barely balancing in his sockets. His heart’s pounding, too. The last time his body reacted like this was when he was human and he had to fight off other angels sans his powers. Or when he had sex with April. Except this feeling, it’s heavier than oxytocin. It’s not insanity, or fear, it’s—

The door to the Bunker swings open, curtailing his thoughts. Dean manifests in the doorway before Sam, carrying his duffel in one hand.

“Turns out Sam _was_ just doing research, and I’m incredibly disappointed.”

Cas can see Sam roll his eyes from the top of the staircase. “Some people want to be thorough.”

“Yeah, exactly! With _hot librarians,_ ” Dean argues, frisbeeing the duffel onto the war room table. “Right, Cas?”

Cas stands up slowly to face Dean, and then uses his thumb and index finger to cradle his chin. Dean’s Adam apple bobs like a meter on a high striker. Their eyes meet, and Cas does the honor of closing the distance between them. The heaviness in his body slips away when Dean’s lips part and pry open Cas’s mouth a little more to breathe into him. His hands rest on Cas’s waist to balance them both when they part.

Cas stands corrected: Dean _can_ give him something else.

He can give him love.

 

 

 


End file.
